Child of Her Heart. Cheryl St.John
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their executives, board members and corporate attorney shared privileges.
“When does he leave?” Albert asked.
Terrence took a sip of coffee. “He should have returned this morning, but he stayed over to wind up this Chicago deal.”
Silence fell over the room. The clock on the wall ticked off the minutes like a time bomb.
Wayne Thorpe sat forward, his chair complaining beneath his considerable weight. The other board members looked to him with interest. He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words were usually worthy of listening. His nose and cheeks were florid from his nightly appointment with a bourbon bottle, and he wore heavy gold signet rings on both pinkies. “Things are probably tense for Meredith Malone,” he said. “We need to consider her feelings in the matter. The board might be wise to give her more time to think over her situation and her choices.”
No one said a word, digesting the suggestion, wondering where he was taking it.
Dianna March nodded her agreement.
“I’m sure there’s an available suite at the Lighthouse Inn,” Thorpe added. “It’s February, after all, off-season.”
Terrence looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Dianna’s eyebrows rose.
As the implication sunk in, Thorpe’s proposal was met with nods and sidelong glances. Send Meredith Malone to the same inn where their attorney would be vacationing.
“It would keep her away from the media awhile longer,” Albert agreed.
“And give her some private time with her baby,” Garnet said. “The clinic is all about families.”
Terrence shook his head, but every person in the room, including him, knew something had to be done.
“Who will make the offer?” Miles asked.
“The chairman?” Wayne Thorpe suggested.
“Excellent idea.” Oliver slapped the table as if banging a gavel. Murmurs of agreement echoed.
Dianna March was the chairwoman this term. Fitting that a woman should make the offer. As she tucked her hair behind one ear, diamonds glittered on her slender hand. “I’ll see to it this afternoon.”
One
Leaving Portland, Meredith Malone drove west along the Sunset Highway. Sweeping wheat fields bordered by verdant hills and towering mountains soon gave way to orchards, which gave way to forests of spruce, alder, cedar and hemlock. In places the highway cut in so deeply that the bases of the huge trees were eye level on both sides of the car, giving the feeling that she was an infinitesimal part of the endless forest. She drove in the shaded wilderness for an hour before seeing sunlight and sky again.
Here, an occasional gift shop dotted the sides of the road, joined by deserted fruit stands that would be busy in later months. During the summer even antique dealers displayed goods along this stretch of road, and tourists with RVs, towing ATVs or with bike and surfboard carriers slowed traffic considerably. This time of year, however, hers was one of only a few cars, so she made good time.
She descended the last hill from Saddle Mountain, pleased that she’d planned the drive for after her three-month-old daughter had been fed and was ready to sleep most of the morning.
She drove through a small river valley and climbed through the dense foliage along the coast. She hadn’t been to the coast for years, and as she started the last descent toward Cannon Beach junction, the Pacific Ocean appeared, vast and surprisingly familiar. Ahead was a fleeting distant view of Haystack Rock, projecting a couple of hundred feet out of the water. From almost untouched countryside, she drove the steep loop down to Cannon Beach and into the small town.
From her car seat in the rear, Anna woke and let Meredith know she was hungry with tiny rooting sounds and a long wail of complaint.
“We’re there, sweetie. Mommy just has to find the address.”
She glanced at the piece of paper on the seat beside her and followed directions through the quaint little community to a multicolored brick inn near the beach. White shutters made the windows look welcoming, and each guest suite sported a sunny balcony. Shrubs bordered the building and lined the drive and the walk.
Meredith unfastened the carrier, grabbed Anna’s bag and her purse, and carried the seat holding her baby. She would come back later for the rest of her belongings. Traveling with an infant was an enormous task. She had packed diapers and clothing and blankets and toys, and still she’d wondered if she’d remembered everything she would need for her stay. Once again she said a prayer of thanks for the blessing and ability to breast-feed. At least she didn’t have to worry about bottles and formula.
It may have been a perfectly natural thing to a million women, but for her it was a gift she never took for granted.
Anna was red-faced and wailing by the time Meredith entered the lobby, set the carrier on the carpeted floor and checked in.
“Sorry,” she said above the crying to the woman at the counter. “She’s hungry.”
The woman nodded. “Can I help you carry your things to your room? Maybe she’ll settle down if you take her out and hold her.”
“You’re probably right.” Meredith leaned over, unbuckled Anna’s restraints and picked her up. Anna immediately quieted as she peered at her new surroundings and blinked at her mother.
“You’ve been cooped up in that seat for a while, haven’t you, sweetie?” Meredith smiled and turned back for the room key.
The clerk was staring at Anna.
Pain stabbed in Meredith’s chest. Anna was a beautiful child with black hair, near-black eyes and velvety skin the color of coffee with cream. Meredith, on the other hand, was as fair-skinned as could be.
Would she ever get used to people staring at the two of them? She waited for a question—people often blurted the first thing on their minds. But this woman displayed a modicum of tact and said nothing.
With a cheerful smile pasted on her face, she came around the wall from the little room she’d been standing in and picked up the carrier and Meredith’s bag. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Not “what a pretty baby” or “what is her name?” Meredith tamped down the hurt as the woman walked her down a hallway and led her to a set of double doors. Meredith used the plastic key card and let herself in. The hotel employee set her belongings just inside. “Have a nice stay.”
“Thank you.” Meredith closed the door and locked it. Her first impression was that the suite was as large as her apartment at home, but far more elegantly furnished.
Anna was fussing again, so without taking time to investigate the rooms, she hurried into the bedroom, placed the baby on the king-sized bed and changed her diaper. Then Meredith unbuttoned her shirt, settled in a comfortable overstuffed chair and placed Anna at her breast.
Dark eyes looked at her trustingly, smooth dark skin and lips a vivid contrast against Meredith’s scarred white breast. She touched her baby’s face and smiled. The drive had been beautiful and relaxing, but she was tired from packing and planning and following directions. She kicked off her shoes and propped her feet on a matching ottoman.
The past few months had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. No, the past couple of years had been tension-filled and emotionally draining. But the recent months had been worse, rife with her mother’s constant disapproval and pressuring. Every time Meredith thought about her mother’s reactions, renewed hurt knifed through her heart. Breathing deeply, she worked to fight back her anger before her tension seeped through to the baby in her arms.
Meredith’s mother had wanted her to give up Anna for adoption. Meredith wouldn’t hear of it. She’d loved her baby from conception. She’d adored her on sight and cherished her more every day since.
But